


Parallel Perception

by edibleflowers



Series: Comment Porn Fics [1]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 23:21:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack takes Ianto where he wants to go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parallel Perception

**Author's Note:**

> This was prompted into being by the announcement of a porn battle which was hosted by 51stcenturyfox and cruentum. Sorry, guys, I kind of jumped the gun; just couldn't get the idea out of my head. PWP. Thanks to lemniskate for the title. (I hate titles.)
> 
> Originally posted on January 16, 2010, on my Livejournal.

"Jack, _no_ \--" Ianto gasps, trying to pull away from Jack, but then it's too late, the lift is moving and Ianto can't step off. It's not easy to move away from Jack under present circumstances anyway: Jack's tugged Ianto's belt out and unbuttoned his trousers. Too late, Ianto realises that this was Jack's intent all along. He'd found Ianto in the armoury, cleaning weapons, and tugged the rag out of his hand before Ianto could protest, turning him and kissing him all at the same time. Backing him out of the armoury, Jack manouevred Ianto, step by step, until Ianto's heel hit something solid and Jack murmured into his mouth to just step up.

Now, on his knees, Jack finishes pressing the sequence activating the lift on his wriststrap and grins up at Ianto. "You have to stay quiet," he informs Ianto, his eyes serious, his mouth lewd. He tugs down at the elastic of Ianto's briefs. Ianto's pretty sure that's not actually how the perception filter works, but disagreeing is the last thing on his mind at the moment. His world narrows in one shocking instant to Jack's mouth covering his dick. Shaking, Ianto sinks his fingers into Jack's thick hair.

'Shy' is not a word Ianto has ever bothered associating with Jack. 'Retiring' is another one that doesn't exactly come to mind; 'inhibited', even less. But Ianto knows Jack knows all of those words have applied to Ianto in his lifetime, and if there's one thing Jack delights in, it's in stripping away those labels. He knows, too, that Jack would stop if Ianto genuinely protested. If he was truly freaked out by it.

The thing is, though, he's not. Ianto keeps himself hidden, sure. He guards himself fiercely, for reasons Jack's pried out of him over the course of long quiet nights, just the two of them in the bed under Jack's office. That just means it takes a little more effort for them to come to the surface. But when Ianto confessed that the idea of exhibitionism thrilled him, he didn't expect Jack to--

Well, that's just a fucking lie, isn't it. Everything he says, Jack uses as ammunition. Which means that Ianto, whether he wanted it consciously or not, wanted Jack to do this to him. It's a thought process that should have taken much less time to connect in his brain, but with Jack's mouth moving in eager, wet slides on his cock, Ianto can allow himself a certain lapse in critical thinking. Especially when the back of Jack's throat works and suddenly the entire length of him is taken into the lush velvet heat.

The lift stops with a lurch. They're on the Plass. The day is bright and rare, and tourists and natives alike take advantage of the lovely weather, strolling down toward the water or milling by the shops. Not five feet from where they stand, a woman stands chatting on her mobile; water from the fountain flicks over her in playful sprays. Ianto shuts his eyes and bites down hard on the inside of his cheek. His fingers flex restlessly in Jack's hair. As if in response, Jack makes a sort of grunting sound, draws back, and takes him in again. And again. Ianto can feel the wind on his bare arse and thighs, except for where Jack's hands clutch him, imprinting hot handprints on his skin. As hard as he tries, he can't hold back the moan that erupts from his throat, but if he gets any attention, he doesn't notice it, too lost in Jack and the mouth bringing him so rapidly to orgasm.

He's still shaking with the force of it when he feels Jack slip back, tugging his briefs up again, then his trousers. Ianto takes control at last, bringing his shaking fingers to rebutton his trousers and thread his belt, tucking in his shirt again. Jack stands, dusting off his knees and grinning at Ianto, the kind of huge, smug grin that makes his eyes sparkle and the sun glint off his teeth. Ianto wants to frown at Jack, but it's a little difficult to after Jack's just blown him -- and his mind -- so thoroughly. Instead, he steps close and kisses Jack, sweeping his tongue into Jack's mouth to taste himself there.

"I'm getting you back for this one," he says. Jack just laughs.


End file.
